Cain Crying
by sadge
Summary: Petter Pettigrew, the coward. I cry because I am lonely, because I destroyed my only chance at acceptance, because I will never amount to anything. And then I cry even harder because I can only cry for myself.


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Author's Note: well this was certainly an interesting experience. Trying to imagine what would drive little Peter Pettigrew to betray the only friends he had ever known was a puzzle that I had every intention of figuring out. What resulted was this. I think it was a good learning experience. Everyone should try to explore a concept they don't understand, I've decided. It really opens your mind.

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Disclaimer: I don't own the various names mentioned within but it sure was fun taking them for a spin...

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Cain Crying

I wanted them to know before they killed me, that I had reasons. What they were precisely I just could not express.

I might tell them I was inherently evil and they had never realized it. I might tell them I was insanely jealous of their lives. I might even tell them what they wanted to hear, that I had never been faithful to everyone – that my life was a sham. There were many things to say, but none were the truth. Or rather, none were the full truth.

From the beginning, I was a coward, I'll admit it. I would love to say it is only because of a newfound maturity and humility that I am able to confess this, but I know too well this is not the case. Looking back on my life I can clearly see how often I played the part of the pathetic coward. I am not proud of it. At one time I had hoped to break free and change that flaw in my character, but I have since then learned I lack the will-power to overcome the daunting challenge that poses. I simply settled back into the worthless dust and became content with that.

When we first met I was that worthless nobody coward. James was a nobody too, but he was determined to make a name for himself. Anonymity did not suit him. His ability to set himself upon the upward reaching path cast a sour light on my meaningless attempts at greatness. I hated him and I hated me. In fact, I had always hated James Potter, even when I felt myself most devoted to him.

Sirius was different; he already had a name which held the attention of nearly everybody at Hogwarts. After all, who didn't know the Black family, especially the terrors commonly called the Black Sisters? No one expected Sirius to be different – and then, he was. Blood traitors aren't quickly forgotten in pureblood families, and Hogwarts was _full_ of purebloods. No, Sirius never had any problems making a name for himself.

Remus, however, was very different. He appeared from the shadows and, as far as any one of us could tell, he liked it best there. He was a nobody without ever being a coward. He was just Remus, never anyone else, and he was always content with that.

I was the nobody who could never be somebody. I tried, really I did. I broke rules, I played pranks, I called names. I did everything _they_ did. I did my best to form myself into a person I could be proud of being. And the more I did, the more I discovered that person I wanted to be – it was not me. I could never love who I was. I wanted James' determination, Sirius' courage, and Remus' self-confidence. All I had was _my_ cowardice.

They came to realize my failings and tried to build up what I lacked. I was part of the gang, even if I did not live up to their expectations. And as time went on, I slipped back into the role I knew so well. James the cunning planner, Sirius the loyal second in command, Remus the somewhat silent moral conscience, and me. I was their servile supporter; the fawning cheerleader who would smile and clap while they won.

When they lost…

We all saw what I did when the Marauders started to lose.

But one reason is not enough to explain why I sold them out. My cowardice was my flaw but it alone did not destroy me. There were other factors which beat at that crack until it was split wide open.

I wanted to be them, to have their lives. Even Remus, the dark creature, who to this day lives in fear of someone learning his secret, even Remus had so much in his favor. Everyone liked the werewolf. He had no easily visible defects in his life. But that rat…

And James; James had everything. He had a wife and a kid, even among all the chaos in the world. While the rest of the world was in mourning, James rejoiced. I hated him so much then. I should have loved him most then, congratulated him at least and wished him the best. I just wanted him gone. I wanted this reminder of everything I could never be removed from my life.

An encounter with the Dark Lord gave me the opportunity to do just that. I could give in; go with the winning side. I could be a person of importance for once – _once_ – in my life. I suppose I had always been a little bit gullible. I should have realized the fame He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named would give would not last.

For a while I cried over it. There was some guilt in me over the whole affair. _Why did I do it?_ I asked myself. _What had possessed me to destroy in that instant everything I had worked to hard to gain?_ I could have refused; I sometimes played out the scene in my head. I could have been James who knew the path he wanted and made it his. I could have been Sirius, loyal to the end. I could have been Remus and done the right thing irregardless of personal cost. In one final act, I would have been the hero I wanted to be. Instead I was the coward, as always.

Very soon the tears stopped altogether. They were a waste, I told myself. It was in the past now and I could not continue to drag its dead weight around with me. I stopped my guilt – I stopped my memories and my thoughts as well. I ceased being human in any form. I was the rat, within and without, and for once I was free to be that degrading beast and no one could care. I could be me.

A family picked me up from that blissful life, shattering the happy ignorance I lived in. Bits and pieces of the world floated through my mind and with them, memories of another lifetime. Then a name jumped out at me, jarring me from my subdued state.

Potter. Harry Potter. The boy had made it this far in life. From what I could see, he was a little clone of the father I hated and loved. Courage, loyalty, and strangely enough a sense of ethics that I knew must have been the result of Lily's influence. Merlin knows James' scruples were somewhat deficient.

Eventually another name reappeared which I would have never thought possible and panic set in. Sirius was out of Azkaban, and from the sound of it, it did not appear to be for good behaviour. I could only imagine what terrors he had in store for me. With twelve years of insanity to add to his desire for vengeance…

In that same year, the final piece slipped into place. Remus was back at Hogwarts. The stage seemed set for something – something I was not going to enjoy. I began to think, everything was drawing to a point, like a climax in this great drama of our lives. There would be one final meeting of the Marauders. Certain closets would be cleaned out and the truth was going to be forced out of me. What would I say? I had not intended to be the traitor when we first met. What reason could I give them to explain this monster of a betrayal? I could not bring _myself_ to understand all of my failings; how would I ever make _them_ comprehend?

They found me, sniveling and submissive. I denied all their claims despite the copious amount of excuses I created for my failure. Twelve years could not destroy in me a lifetime of cowardice. They threatened me and I cried, the first tears in what felt like an eternity. They stung and burned where they touched my skin. Rats do not cry; we are simply unable to produce tears. Traitors, too.

But for all my moaning and bawling, I would have done it again. I would have been the traitor because that is just what I am – a coward. They yell at me, saying those words so easily. "You should have died! Died rather than betray your friends, as we would have done for you!" Didn't they see? Hadn't those years of our friendship taught them anything? Peter Pettigrew did not – could not – die for anyone! He was a coward, a coward, _a coward_. He would always be a coward, a filthy, stinking, worthless coward…

They were so close to killing me. I would have accepted it I think if my entire nature was not so opposed to death. Everything I did was to survive another day; I was not allowed to give up and wish for death. I was afraid of it. And so I was spared. Little Harry stopped them; James wouldn't have wanted it, he said. Oh-ho! Dear Prongs would have been turning in his grave to hear those words! Had his father been here, I would have been dead ages ago. James could not deal well with traitors. I can only imagine how he must have cursed me before his death. The thought gives me pleasure actually; imagine the golden-boy of our Hogwarts days brought down by this little groveling nobody.

Harry always had too much of Lily in him, though. He spared my life when James would have destroyed me. He sees me for what I am, clearer perhaps than my _friends_. They were always slightly blind when it came to me. Lily knew what I was, but she did not outcast me for it. I sometimes still feel bad for killing her. Her only mistake was marrying James and if I could have I would have spared her.

But I am a coward and I cannot stand up for anyone. Not even myself. I couldn't even tell them my reasons for destroying their lives. But perhaps there will be another chance, eventually. I would like to tell them and I would like them to get angry and kill me, and I would like it to end. I never wanted to live this life. I wanted the great name, to be the hero. I killed the only one I ever knew. Do you know why? Because I was the traitor, destined from birth to stab those greater than me in the back. It is a very lonely road I walk and I would give anything for a friend except I would only end up despising them too.

Sometimes I want to cry. Sometimes I do, despite all my claims to be unable to do so. I cry because I am lonely, because I destroyed my only chance at acceptance, because I will never amount to anything. And then I cry even harder because I can only cry for myself.

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Well that's it. Thanks for reading...please tell me what you think! I wanna know if anyone took a stab at the mental mess that is Wormtail.


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